A major step for my brain health happened while we were building the tiny home. We moved into a 10sqm tin shack in the winter months, with no running water or electricity. I found so much satisfaction in living extremely simply in the shack: having cold showers under a hose and spending the evenings by candle light. I had a huge sense of gratitude and I carried a constant feeling of humility. I also discovered that I’d been lacking Vitamin D, (which is necessary for the brain’s serotonin levels), and the shack with a face of windows gave me that light.
Building the tiny home also gave me a purpose, a goal. That’s the tough thing about finishing a big goal or event, it’s the “now what?” For me, the post-Olympic void was so deep that I began to understand I needed another goal. Building the tiny home provided just that.
A significant turning point was telling my partner, loving friends and family. Luckily I did this reasonably soon as they were all super supportive, which I believe fast tracked my way forward. My family are everything to me. I’ve never been much of a talker and often bottle up my emotions but as time has gone by, I feel our family bond is only getting stronger and opening up now seems ever so encouraged and supported. My auntie sent me an accurately illustrated book called The Black Dog, by Matthew Johnstone. It spoke to me. I was able to show it to others to help them understand how I was feeling.
Our cat, Jinx, is also great support; he’s always there. I’ve been told that patting a cat reduces stress and anxiety levels and I totally get that; there is something so calming about it. Those cat ladies with 10 cats are definitely on to something there.
Another significant step in finding myself again, internally, was at Aroha Retreat in Queenstown. A week long retreat of trekking, yoga, eating well, nature and meditation, without a cell phone. It was paramount to my journey out of depression and I can’t thank my family enough for all chipping in towards that huge gift for me. I was never a big phone addict but for me after having a week without it, a little time with it felt like too much. I am more aware when I’m on the phone now and can catch myself out. I’ve even implemented a simple rule in the tiny home that phones stay in the kitchen when going to bed. This eliminates that mind-numbing bed time scroll and aids better sleep. The retreat, not only gave me internal mental space but it also sparked my desire to eat well and start exercising again. I could sense my brain was needing a taste of those endorphins that I was so addicted to as a full time athlete.
I now take notice of how much I load myself with and if something weighs me down. I’m learning to find the strength to make changes to benefit me and not always trying to please others. This was hard to do during my depression but once I made the decision to put time and focus solely into my own wellness, I felt committed. I took things off my plate. I halved my work hours and stopped teaching yoga. My wellness became my number one goal. If I went for a run, my day was a success and my positive cycle began. Don’t get me wrong, it was challenging to do, and on the days I didn’t, I would get down about it. But on those difficult days, that was a clear sign my brain was crying out for it. It became a game with my brain, the hardest part was putting my shoes on, so I simply eliminated that step. I am now, to this day, a barefoot runner.
I’m a big believer in balance. If I’m too one sided with working or fulltime training then that gets me down mentally and similarly, when I’m too stagnant that also has an effect. I balance my life by having something (little or big) that challenges me and then I stabilize myself by giving time toward adventures and the people I love.
Surfing has always been a great passion. The ocean feels so purifying and riding along the face of a beautiful wave, it’s hard to describe, but the world seems to just disappear. Paragliding is another hobby. It has a mesmerizing silence and weightlessness to it. It’s as though nothing can harm me when I’m by myself, in control, that high in the sky. I can look down on the world. iI’s exhilarating but, oddly, I feel so incredibly safe. Painting is another obsession, especially the entrancing feeling of “getting in the zone”: I lose myself in it.
Yoga has also taught me a lot about myself and life. When I practise yoga (which comes and goes), it gives me inner clarity, my breath becomes present and my mind can rest and restore. I’ve learnt to do yoga away from the mat too. I’ve learnt that I can simply be. I don’t have to be anyone or have anything to be content. I can purely, just, be. It’s an inner happiness that comes without external things. Yes, I have my surfboard, my paints, the tiny house, but these things do not define me. That is our lifestyle now; we have less externally, and much more internally.
If it was possible to send a note back to yourself when you needed the most help, what would you write?
Eve experienced depression at the age of 24 for approximately one year. It arose during her transition back to ‘normal’ life after a disheartening result at the Olympic Games in Rio De Janeiro, 2016.
Age during the experience:
24 – 25 years old.
Any obvious cause(s)?
We didn’t meet our expectations at the Olympic Games. After the games I felt I needed time away from the sport, mentally and physically. I found the transition back to the so called, ‘normal’ life very difficult.
No, I wanted to try to heal naturally.
How did it make you feel?
I felt extremely lazy, tired, useless and unmotivated. I felt like crying all the time. I didn’t want to socialize, go outside or even be seen. Most of all, I struggled to do and enjoy the things I knew that I loved.
Any triggers that exacerbated it?
I got frustrated and upset at myself for not wanting to do anything.
Factory work - long hours, inside.